


Through the Looking Glass

by grey2510



Series: Elevator Music [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, Genderswap, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Sort Of, meta madness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-19
Updated: 2018-07-19
Packaged: 2019-06-13 02:23:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15354135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grey2510/pseuds/grey2510
Summary: Dean, Sam, and Cas investigate strange happenings at an abandoned office building. What they find is not what they would expect...





	Through the Looking Glass

"I dunno, man, this seems kinda thin," Dean grumbles as they check out yet another abandoned building—a corporate office, though, not a warehouse. Such a refreshing change of pace.

Sam grimaces. "I know. But it is _weird_ , the people and monsters and stuff that've been showing up."

Dean kicks in another door. More dusty swivel chairs and toppled cubicle walls. "Yeah, well, last time you said this happened, it was at a Denny's. That ain't supernatural, that's just Denny's."

"Point."

They do a cursory swing through this office, but other than a plastic fern that's seen better days, they don't find anything interesting. Cas catches up with them just as they're walking back into the hallway.

"Anything?" Dean asks.

"No. No warding or magic I can detect around the perimeter." Cas lets his shoulders fall. "This might be a wild duck chase."

"Goose chase, man. Goose chase."

Cas narrows his eyes at Dean, then stalks off. Dean rolls his eyes while Sam snickers as they follow him.

It's Sam's turn to kick in a door this time, but they can both hear something faint moving around inside. Silently, Dean and Cas move into position to cover the room as Sam opens the door. They burst in, guns and angel blades ready, to find a fluffy white dog happily munching on a paper banner.

"Is that a dog?" Dean asks Cas.

Cas gives him a look. "Yes, Dean. Astute observation. That is a dog."

"No, I mean, is it _just_ a dog. I can tell it _looks_ like a damn dog, for fuck's sake."

"It's just a dog."

Sam lowers his gun, tucking it into the back of his jeans, and, crouching down, holds out a hand to the dog. "C'mere, boy. Who are you?"

Dean shakes his head, preferring to inspect the room than watch his grown-ass man of a brother use _that_ voice to try and coax the furball over. There isn't much here: some waiting room style chairs, a water cooler with cucumbers in it (which appear fresh but you couldn't pay him to try it), some magazines on the table. There's no dust, no evidence that the place has been abandoned. There's also no other doors, either.

"This place giving anyone else the creeps?"

Cas considers the room. "It does have a certain energy to it, but nothing malicious."

"Great. Alright, spread out, look for anything hinky." Dean puts the safety back on his gun. "Sam, quit playing with Fluffy already."

Sam looks up from petting the dog. "His tag says his name is [ Kuma Blu](http://www.supernaturalwiki.com/Kuma_Blu)."

"Yeah, well you're not keeping 'im, so—"

"C'mon, Dean. We don't know how long he's been trapped here."

Sam somehow does better puppy dog eyes than the actual damn dog, and so Dean relents with a sigh. "Fine. Any idea what he was chewing on?"

Standing up, Sam crosses the room and picks up the shredded paper. "C-O-L… then it's all chewed up...I think that might be an H?...it's torn again and then T-S. Col-something hats? Hits? Hots?"

He shrugs and holds it out to Dean, but there's no way Dean's taking something the fuzzbucket slobbered on.

"Great. Dog ate our homework." Dean turns to find Cas pulling something out of the crevice of a chair. "Is that...is that a luchador mask?"

Cas turns it over in his hands, letting the red and gold fabric glint dully in the fluorescent lighting. "It appears so."

"The fuck was _Nacho Libre_ doing here?"

But of course, no one has an answer for him. And ten more minutes of searching the little room gets them exactly zilch with a side of squat. Somehow, Kemosabe ( _"Kuma Blu, Dean." "Whatever, the canine cottonball…"_ ) scampers off during all of this, and even Sam's search of the building and parking lot doesn't turn up the dog. Dean would be _horribly_ upset except he did _not_ sign up for dog duty and there is no way he's letting a damn mutt onto Baby's leather seats. Oh no. What a shame.

"So, nothing on what was giving you the heebie jeebies back there, Cas?" Dean asks as they walk back to the Impala.

"No." Cas shakes his head. "But there's definitely something there. I think we should research."

"Awesome…"

Cas gets into the backseat behind Sam while the brothers toss their weapons in the trunk. Almost in unison, they climb into the front seats before their knees bash up against the dashboard and they jump out again like the seats are on fire.

"What the fuck?" Dean glares at the bench seat, which he now realizes is about six inches forward from usual. "Cas, you mess with the seat or something?"

Cas frowns as he gets out. "No, why would I?"

"Someone's been in my damn car!"

"Shit." Sam's still rubbing his knees. "Cas..."

Dean's barely listening as Sam tells Cas to help him check the car for any hex bags or something. While they're doing that, he pops the hood and starts inspecting the engine. "What'd they do to you, Baby? I'm gonna fucking kill 'em if they messed with you—"

"Hey, what the _fuck_ are you doing?!" a female voice shouts just before a shot rings out and Dean feels a thud and burning pain in his shoulder. He grips the wound, blood oozing between his fingers.  

"Sonofa _bitch_!" he roars as he reels back, just in time to find a blondish woman ready to clock him in the face. Which she does.

He goes down on one knee, but manages to swipe the woman's legs out from under her. He's got the height and weight advantage, but she also fucking _shot_ him and she's tenacious as hell, and so it's a pretty even fight until strong pairs of hands are ripping them apart. By the car, Sam's got his hands up, facing a tall woman with long brown hair, pointing a gun at him.

Blondie's sporting a split lip and bloody knuckles, and she's holding herself in a way that makes him think she might have a bruised rib, but she's still raring to go another round, even though she's being held back by a woman with dark hair. He's faring about the same, with Cas holding him back.

"Sam, drop your weapon," the dark-haired woman calls out in a deep voice.

Dean frowns. Sam's not holding a weapon and how the hell does this chick know their names—

And then the one facing Sam lowers her gun.

"The hell—"

"Dean, hold still." In an instant, angel Grace pours into him, taking care of the gunshot wound and the rest of his scrapes. Across from him, Blondie's eyes widen.

"Cas, what the fuck—" he says, but he's stopped as Cas' grip tightens on his arm.

"Dean, you're making matters worse."

"Don't blame me! Princess Peach tried to kill me!"

"Princess Peach?" Blondie spits out. "Who the fuck do you think you are, dickwad? And you're the one messing with my car!"

" _I'm_ the one messing with your car?" Oh that is _rich_.

But suddenly it dawns on him, just as the dark-haired woman's palm glows and Blondie straightens up, no longer injured.

"Holy shit…" Dean shakes himself out of Cas' grip. On the other side of the car, Sam and...the other Sam? are eyeing each other critically, obviously putting together the same pieces. "Deanna? Your name Deanna Winchester?"

Blondie's jaw drops and her eyes dart between the three guys. "Oh you gotta be fucking kidding me." She turns to the woman next to her, who Dean now realizes looks like Claire plus twenty years and a dye job. "Cas, he telling the truth?"

Both Cas-es answer at the same time, "Yes."

"Well, that's freaky," girl-Sam says, but Dean recognizes that nerdy look: she's more intrigued than freaked. His Sam seems to be thinking along the same lines.

Deanna crosses her arms in front of her. He's relieved to find girl-him still looks badass: the usual hunter get-up of boots, flannel, and jeans, and her hair is cut almost as short as his own, but is still kind of feminine. She gives him a similar once over.

"I look pretty damn good as a dude." She smirks. "Not as a hot as me, though."

"Hey," Dean protests, before deciding it's a useless argument.

On the other side of the car, Sam Squared are geeking out over this whole situation, talking animatedly. Hell, girl-Sam (Samantha?) is even getting out her laptop from the backseat.

Deanna studies Cas—his Cas—as she picks up her gun from where it'd fallen in the scuffle and tucks it into the back of her jeans. Standing, she chucks her Cas on the arm, who, Dean finally notices, _isn't_ wearing work clothes: she's in jeans, a striped grey Henley, and boots. "Other you's pretty good lookin', too." She-Cas glares. Deanna laughs, resting a hand on her Cas' back, and winks. "Don't worry, I ain't tradin' you in."

Dean's pretty sure he goes all bug-eyed and he avoids the hell out of his Cas' gaze. But that's a panic for another day. Right now: time to get out of Chickville (and pray to whoever is listening that Deanna can't read his mind because she'd probably give him a well-deserved asskicking for that).

"Alright, this has been a party 'n all but let's wrap this case up so we can go home."

Samantha shrugs, still holding the laptop. "Makes sense. Any ideas?"

Sam runs a hand through his hair. "Well, what brought you guys here?"

"Weird shit happening," Deanna says. "Every month, right around this time, right around this place."

"Full moon?" Dean asks. That hadn't been the pattern on their side, but who knows what the deal is over here.

"Nope."

Castiel glances back at the building before speaking, looking mostly at Deanna. "We did hear something about a competition or challenge but it didn't make any sense."

"We found some sort of connection to Denny's," Sam adds, "but we couldn't figure out how it all hangs together."

Deanna hooks her thumbs into her pockets. "Yep. Like I said, weird shit."

Dean agrees with a nod. "I say we find the asshats running this freakshow and give 'em a decease and desist."

"And get you away from my Baby?" Deanna raises an eyebrow at him. "Count me in."

"Still can't believe you fucking _shot_ me."

She smirks. "Like you wouldn't have done the same."

She's got a point and so Dean just shrugs in acknowledgement. Cas and Castiel seem to be competing in eye rolling at this banter but Sam and Samantha both look thoughtful.

"What if," Sam says, "we kill them and then get stuck here?"

Samantha nods. "Yeah. Might make sense to send you back first."

"You think this is like a turn it off, turn it back on kinda thing?" Deanna asks. "Just send them back in there and hope they end up back in Dudeville?"

The Sams nod in unison. "Could be."

Dean shakes his head at how freaking _weird_ that is to watch but stops when he notices Deanna doing the same thing. Instead he says to her, "You got our backs on this end, 'case it goes sideways?"

Deanna brings out her gun again while Castiel's angel blade slides into her hand.

"Of course. 'Long as you guys do the same on your end when you go back."

"We'll do what we can." Dean looks around at his Sam and Cas. "Alright, let's saddle up."

 

They make their way back to the building, weapons drawn. He doesn't have to look behind him to know that their lady-selves have fanned out in defense, and while he's not going to let his guard down because that's a surefire way of getting your ass ganked in this job, he feels better knowing who is watching his back.

As they enter the building, Dean notices what looks like melted marshmallow just outside the office they'd gone into before. At least, that's what he hopes it is. He doesn't really want to know if it's not.

The office looks about the same as it did before, minus the dog. It's also somehow darker than it was, and when they step back through the door again and outside, it's night.

"It was day and now it's night…" Sam pulls out his phone. "Holy shit. We lost four days."

"Whaddya mean?" Dean's eyes snap back from where they'd been examining Baby from afar, hoping that this is _his_ Baby.

Sam shows him and Cas the phone. It reads 11:59 pm, July 19th. "It was the 15th when we went in there."

"What the fuck…"

Cas peers around the building. His eyes go wide after a moment. "The energy. It's gone."

"What do you mean it's gone?"

"I mean exactly what I said."

"Sonofabitch." Dean runs a hand over his mouth. "We're going to have to wait until next month."

"Looks like," Sam agrees, returning his phone to his pocket. "Are we in the right universe?"

"One way to find out. Cas, if I get shot again, you know what to do." Dean stalks over the car and runs a hand over her sleek sides. He glances around and when no one shouts or shoots, he opens up the driver's door, gets in, and starts the engine. Instantly, he feels himself relax with Baby's purr.

Sam and Cas climb in after him and they peel out of the parking lot, all of them lost in their own thoughts for a few miles.

"That was pretty weird, even for us," Sam says eventually. "Would've been cool to hang out with them more, get to know them. See what was different and what was the same."

From the backseat, Cas says, "I thought it was very educational."

Dean catches Cas' eye in the rearview mirror and Dean thinks he knows _exactly_ what Cas means. He coughs. "Yeah. Definitely. Sure we all coulda learned a thing or two."

Sam looks between them and raises an eyebrow before settling back against the window like he's going to take a nap. "Figures it'd take a whole different universe to spell it out for you two…" he mumbles.

Dean feels like he should be pissed or something, but instead he just grunts, "Yeah, yeah. Girls are the smart ones. I get it."

He still punches Sam in the arm, though, because brothers.

Sam just grins. "'Bout time."

"I concur."

"Oh, thanks, Cas."

"Anytime."

But Dean meets Cas' eyes again in the mirror and smiles. He gets a smile in return and suddenly the fact that they still don't know what the hell just happened today—or the last four days—doesn't even matter.  

**Author's Note:**

> Oh hey there! It's [Coldest Hits](http://spncoldesthits.tumblr.com/post/175912371415/spncoldesthits-mixed-metaphors-and-terrible) so if you were utterly confused, don't worry, it's not you, it's me. 
> 
> My mixed metaphor was "decease and desist" from [this list](http://www.jimcarlton.com/my_favorite_mixed_metaphors.htm) and my bad excuse was "Don't blame me! Princess Peach tried to kill me!" from [this list](https://imgur.com/gallery/Ir0ehGU).
> 
>  
> 
> Check out my other works (sorted by series for easier navigation):  
> [Grey's works](http://archiveofourown.org/users/grey2510/series)  
> Come visit me on Tumblr! @[grey2510](https://grey2510.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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